


The fault...is not in our stars

by moth2fic



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/M, Season 1 Compliant, happy for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:42:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26597737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moth2fic/pseuds/moth2fic
Summary: Between the activation of the signal on Pahvo and its receipt by the Klingons, there is time for a short mission. Michael and Ash form part of the team. How will their relationship progress and what effect will the advice of the new race they contact have?
Relationships: Michael Burnham/Ash Tyler
Comments: 11
Kudos: 10
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2020





	1. Stones have been known to move (Shakespeare: Macbeth)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strangeallure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/gifts).



> Many thanks to Fledhyris for the beta. Thanks. also, to MistressKat for holding my hand in what was to me a new fandom. The story was written as a gift for an auction bidder in FandomTrumpsHate.
> 
> I have only watched the first season of Discovery but I do know the rest of the story so far. I have set my fic in the canon of season 1 and played with the timing to allow for a mission to another planet after Pahvo. I hope the story satisfies a need for more of the canon romance between Michael and Ash as it must have seemed at the time, but also foreshadows later events and knowledge. 
> 
> The title is a quotation from Shakespeare: Julius Caesar.
> 
> The graphic is by me and the end graphic is icon-sized, suitable for social media use.
> 
> Any remaining errors are my own.

The crystal signal from Pahvo was strong and gaining strength even as it sped through space. However, the Klingons were not particularly near and there was time, Lorca told the crew, just time to investigate another planet where they had found an intriguing pattern. There might just be some kind of backup for the Pahvo message, a boost to the signal or a way of spreading it wider, fanning it out, so to speak.

“If we send a team that can go in and out quickly,” he said, “we will at least know whether we have found an assistant for the Pahvons or just a curiosity. Either way, I think it’s worth the attempt.”

Speed then, was of the essence and that meant using people who already had experience of similar missions. He chose Michael Burnham almost without hesitating and then Ash Tyler to accompany her. Michael and Ash grinned at each other. Another mission together.

“No, Mr Saru,” he said, “you will not be going with them. I need you here and I worry about your tendency to fall victim to alien blandishments.” 

The Kelpian glared but acknowledged Lorca’s decision. However, he pointed out that three was the minimum number for a mission, for safety reasons.

“Take Cadet Tilley, then,” the captain told Michael. “We aren’t going anywhere so she isn’t needed for the spore drive. And it will be good training for her.”

Michael nodded and tried to ignore Silvia Tilley’s puppy-like excitement as the three of them headed for the transporter room. Tilley was a competent scientist, she knew, and had some grounding in xenobiology. She was a good choice. And if Michael was completely honest with herself it would be nice to have her friend along. Her friend on one side and her boyfriend (if that was what he was now) on the other. It was a promising team. 

She felt a pleasant shiver of anticipation. There might be time to follow up on that kiss. She didn't often let her guard down but somehow Ash had crept inside her defences. Pahvo had been the beginning of something. Maybe this mission would see their relationship grow. She glanced at Ash and was pleased to see him smiling at her.

The surface of the planet was surprising. There was, as far as they could see, no vegetation. Maybe they’d transported down to a desert region but they’d aimed for where the readings that suggested life were most concentrated. There was no water visible, either, and Michael was glad of their canteens. They would not, she hoped, be here long enough to need more than those contained. A rapid scouting mission with an overnight stop was all they had time for, and the temperature, despite the desert surroundings, seemed pleasant. They had, she reflected, transported without the normal amount of prior readings but time was short. 

Everywhere they looked there were stones, ranging from the gravel sized pieces of a rough beach through pebbles and chunky rocks to looming boulders. Some were piled haphazardly in groups; others were laid out like mosaics. There was nothing else. 

“I wonder what the planet’s name is,” said Michael. She disliked referring to worlds by the numerical denominations inevitably bestowed on them. 

“Stone,” said Tilley. 

“Well yes,” said Ash, “but I think Michael was wondering what the natives call it. It’s unlikely to be Stone, however suitable that seems to us.”

Michael gave him a glance of gratitude. That was exactly what she’d meant.

There was, oddly enough, a lack of silence. She could not classify what her ears were telling her as sound exactly, but it was perhaps the kind of noise a light breeze makes, just below the threshold of hearing but enough to make them aware of something going on.

Then the sound intensified and turned into a howling gale that attacked on all sides. But it was, apparently, a welcoming gale.

“Pleased to meet. Thank for visit. Understand want help. Will try.” The words were audible but with no definite source other than the entire surround. The voice, if that was what it was, spoke English, but in a clipped and foreign way, one lacking pronouns.  
All three Humans turned where they stood in full circles, trying to pinpoint the speaker, without success. 

Oh well, at least they spoke English. 

“Who are you and where are you?” Trust Tilley to voice everyone’s question.

“We come in peace.” That was Ash, worrying about security but following Federation Protocol.

“We would like to negotiate with you.” As leader of the mission Michael knew it would be up to her to do any negotiations but it couldn’t hurt to suggest they all had some kind of authority. 

“Here. Everywhere,” came the response. 

Then there was a rushing sound like a river a long way in the distance, flowing fast. Something must have been decided in that exchange because now a biggish boulder directly in front of them seemed to speak, though without any mouth showing it was hard to tell. However, the next words definitely emanated from the boulder. 

“Know come in peace. Can read intentions. Can read need too, and issues that formed need. Try to communicate in way understood by Humans; patient, please.” 

So the boulder had presumably agreed to act as spokesperson for the others. 

“Yes. Spokesperson.” It answered Michael's as yet unasked question. 

“So you’re what, in the stones?” It sounded stupid even as she spoke but the boulder replied politely as if the question was quite reasonable.

“All stone here. Everything stone. Stone negotiates and helps. Reads intentions, too.”

Ash was looking anxious. He could hardly guard against danger if it could come from anywhere in the stone strewn landscape. Tilley was looking eager and curious. 

Michael gulped.“You said you know why we are in need. So you must know what we need. Can you really help?”

“Can boost Pahvo signal,” the boulder said confidently. If a stone could sound confident. Michael decided it could and did.

“You are willing?” she asked. Because ability did not necessarily imply intent.

“Yes. Klingons too ready to follow personal good, not greater universal good. Stone does not like. Federation not perfect but better. Will help but things to arrange first. Not long.” 

“Thank you.” Michael felt a rush of hope. “What should we call you and what is this world of yours? We must tell the Federation about you and perhaps you could join us.”

There was a short pause, filled with that river sound again then the boulder replied slowly.

‘No name. Stones no names. World no name. Not like Humans. Or Klingons. Or others.”

“So we can call it Stone if we want,” murmured Tilley and Michael supposed they could. 

“But,” the boulder conceded, “can use Human ways to refer to stones if easier. Can call world Stone if wish. Can point to stone when wishing to speak.”

“Are all of you, I mean all the stones, sentient?” Ash asked.

“Here, yes. All. Other worlds, no. Some but not all.” 

“How did you learn our language?” Michael wanted to know all about their new benefactors but didn’t want to ask too many questions that invaded privacy straight away. ‘Telepathy? Reading our minds, I mean?” 

“Not telepathy. Cannot speak mentally to Humans. Can just read and then just general intentions. Stone travels without travelling. Listens to others on other worlds. Learns languages that seem important. Teaches to children.”

“Children?” Michael hoped she didn’t show how startled she felt but then realised that with a race of mind readers not showing her feelings was hardly an option. 

As if to show rather than tell, a slew of tiny stones skittered closer, crowding around their feet. Then some other slightly larger ones fell from a nearby slope in a small avalanche that could only have been self started. 

“Children,” the boulder confirmed. There was another pause then a very small smooth stone, for all the world like a pebble someone on a Human world might skim into water, bounced against Michael’s foot. It was a peremptory bounce, not an accidental one, and it was repeated forcefully.

The boulder seemed to sigh. “Some children curious,” it said. “Child wants to travel. Real travel, not staying here. Take with when go. In one of the holes in covering.”

“I think it means a pocket,” said Ash, “but I’m not sure we should.” He trained one of his instruments on the little stone. It seemed to be exactly that, a little stone. He sighed along with the boulder and looked at Michael. “It’s up to you,” he said. “I don’t think it has any explosive properties and even if it detonated in some way it’s very small. You should take it out of your pocket as soon as we return but otherwise...”

“Caution is wise,” said the boulder, and Michael found herself absurdly glad of silicon approval. “But,” the boulder continued, “stone not hostile and small stone cannot detonate.” The last few words were said in a tone of satisfaction. Michael decided she believed it completely.

She bent down and held out her hand. The little stone rolled into her palm and she stood, pocketing it. She felt it move slightly, getting comfortable in its new surroundings, and she grinned at her companions. “Seems someone’s going home with us,” she said.

“Thank .” This was the boulder speaking again. “While waiting for arrangements can read Humans. Present, past, future. If wish.”  
‘You can tell the future?” Michael and Tilley spoke together.

‘Not events. Just possibilities based on past and present,” said the boulder. 

What harm could it do? At worst it would be like visiting a fortune teller to while the time away at a fair. And it might please the stones, their hosts. 

“Certain characteristic properties of elements can be foretold from their atomic weights,” said the boulder.

“That sounds like a quotation,” said Michael.

“Yes,” said the boulder. “Dmitri Mendeleev. Human scientist. Sensible. Since stones know Human atomic weights and other things, can foretell. Beginning.”

It seemed they had already agreed, so they shrugged and readied themselves to listen.


	2. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie  (Shakespeare: All’s Well That Ends Well)

The boulder started by saying that much stone and many Humans had faults.

“Of course,” Michael interrupted. “We don’t see ourselves as perfect. Or most people don’t.”

“Not imperfections,” said the boulder. There was a pause while a group of stones drew nearer. One turned out to be what the Humans thought of as a chunk of slate. It obligingly split into flakes and then regrouped as though this was an everyday occurrence.

“So you mean faults in the sense we refer to geological faults?” Ash seemed to grasp the concept quickly. 

“Yes.” The boulder appeared to think that if one understood they all would. “Two Humans here have big fault lines. The other is more solid.” As it was unable to point, they had to make up their own minds about who had geological faults and who didn’t. 

"Silvia has no obvious faults," said Michael. "She's young and curious about the world, a bit like the pebble in my pocket, but she's had little stress in her past."

Tilley blushed and giggled but Ash nodded seriously. " I imagine stress causes fault lines," he said. "It does with stone so why not with humans?"

"You've had enough stress to split in two," said Tilley, and it was Ash's turn to blush. 

"I had a stressful childhood, even when Sarek and Amanda took me in," said Michael.

"Not to mention your conviction," said Ash and Michael nodded. 

They became aware that another stone was speaking. This one was roughly round and covered with what looked like mud. It was far enough from the boulder for the direction of the voice to be unmistakeable. 

“Then there is stone with hidden centre,” it said. Before they could ask for more clarification it separated into two half globes, each containing what looked like the middle of a spectacular geode: beautiful crystals of pink, blue, green and purple and a space that when the rock was ‘closed’ would in turn be enclosed in its crystal nest. Before they could do much more than gasp their appreciation the geode came together again and once more looked much like a muddy potato. 

“The two with fault lines also have these hidden cores,” said the boulder. “One has strength and the other has a surprise.” It seemed unable to go further but then added, “These things will help missions. May not help individuals but will help Humans.”

So Michael and Ash should be aware of secret places within themselves and of cracks or faults in their personalities. Michael thought she envied Silvia, even if her own cracks and core might help the Federation. They hadn’t done either the Federation or herself much good up to now. 

“Worse before better,” the boulder said now. “Breaking and mending. Death and life.” This was too general to make much sense. It probably simply applied to war and that was already in progress. If it had individual meaning, it did not seem to be immediately useful.

“You said you could foretell possible futures.” Tilley spoke hesitantly. Michael wondered whether they really wanted to know, but then if they had some warning, however imperfect, they could prepare.

“Possible, yes. There is big world in future. Vast stone riddled with holes. Not sentient. Humans have given it a name: something that might mean time.”

Silence from the stones while the team tried to solve the puzzle. 

“It could be Kronos,” said Ash. “It’s the Klingon home world, it has a lot of extinct volcanoes and caves, and the name sounds like Chronos which is a word meaning time.”

“I think that would make sense,” said Michael. “If we’re to defeat the Klingons we will eventually reach their home world one way or another. But I suspect that’s a long way in our personal futures.”

“Klingon, yes.” The boulder could hardly nod, but its tone showed agreement and satisfaction with their reasoning. 

“And now we need to wait?” Michael was impatient but knew better than to push their hosts. 

“Wait. Help coming.”

“The stone aren’t the ones who will help us?” She was confused by the comment.

“Stone help with help for stone,” was the cryptic comment. “After long dark, light, and help comes.”

“So, tomorrow?” Ash, again, was the one who understood quickly. “May we put up our shelters to sleep in during the dark?”

“Shelters, yes. Stone never sleep. But Humans sleep. Tomorrow.”

It sounded final, and the sound became general again. These last words had been from all around them rather than from the boulder. Would the next day see the same speaker or would another stone take over? Tomorrow would come soon enough and no doubt they would find out.

They had each brought an individual sleep pod, a tiny tent just big enough to use as a kind of giant sleeping bag. They shook them out of their packs and then ate some rations, not very interesting ones but guaranteed to keep up their calorie count. Ash pointed out that they should be sparing with their water canteens.

“There is no water here to fill them,” he said. “And we don’t actually know how long it will take for this help to come. We don’t know how long darkness lasts, even. So as water is more important than food, it would be best to be careful.”

“But not too careful,” said Michael. “We shouldn’t let ourselves become dehydrated in an attempt to conserve our supply.”

They sipped, contemplating the fine line between caution and risk: a fault line in their human physiology, Tilley said.   
They entered their sleep pods and Michael lay awake, thinking about what the boulder had told them.

She knew she had conflicts between her Human origin and her Vulcan upbringing. Sometimes logic won and sometimes emotions ruled her. Emotion had been the cause of her initial fight with the Klingons and her killing of T’Kuvma. Emotion, then, had started the war. By Vulcan logic she should repudiate emotion. But Amanda had warned her never to forget her humanity, and the boulder had implied that all aspects were important. 

She could also sense a split between her eagerness and ability as a soldier and her cautious curiosity as a scientist. In her present position on Discovery she was able to satisfy both sides of her character but that might not always be the case, and besides, she was also caught on the edge of an abyss where on one side she was a valued crew member and on the other, perhaps when the war ended, she was a prisoner for life. 

She knew all these things about herself but had never thought of them as layers like the ones the slate had displayed. She could, however, easily visualise them that way and it might be helpful. Meanwhile, she could focus on the rest of what the stone had told her, about having a core. She knew or thought she knew she had nothing hidden. 

Ash was another matter because his torture at the hands of the Klingons could very well have concealed things even from his own understanding. So she surmised that he was the one with the secret surprise, and that she had the central strength to help both herself and others. She hoped she could help the Federation and the whole of humanity, too. 

She slept fitfully, dreaming of what could be Kronos, a huge stone with tunnels and herself wriggling along them, right through to the opposite continent, Ash and Tilley following her. There were others in the dream but she couldn’t see their faces or their uniforms with their identifying insignia.

She woke unreasonably early. Perhaps it was still the middle of the night. It was, she thought, still dark. The fabric of the pod would allow a certain amount of light to seep through. Her mind was in turmoil, thinking of what they had been told and then about what help might be on its way. She hoped that ‘tomorrow’ wasn’t too far off and that she could return to Discovery with promises and hope.

She got up, packed her pod, and went to sit on a shelf of rock near where they had camped. She might be sitting on members of the population but they had not made any conditions and she hoped she would neither offend nor physically hurt them. She fingered the pebble in her pocket and imagined she heard a tiny sigh of contentment, just at the frontiers of her hearing. 

She hadn’t been there long when Ash joined her. He sat swinging his legs on the same shelf, clearly not worried about where they were. 

“Did you sleep?” he asked.

“A little,” she told him. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what they said. About the fault lines in me, about the strong core.” She added her reasoning about her hidden strength compared with his hidden surprises and he nodded agreement. 

“I don’t seem to have access to my centre,” he told her. “I know I have fault lines. I see myself as a soldier then have flashbacks to my time as a prisoner. I think of myself as brave but know I have shown cowardice. I’m Human but at times I see the universe from the point of view of a Klingon.”

“That’s all consistent with being a prisoner and being tortured,” Michael said.

“Yes, but it still amounts to cracks in my personality and some of them are more likely to split than others. For instance, I learnt Klingon on the Klingon ship. Sometimes I find myself thinking in their language.”

“If that’s a fault it could be a very useful one,” said Michael. She also knew some Klingon but nowhere near enough to formulate thoughts. 

“Sometimes I think of myself as Klingon,” he admitted in a low voice.

“They brainwashed you,” said Michael. “It’s not clear why but they might have wanted to use you as a spy.”

“If they did, they weren’t trying particularly hard to keep me alive,” he said, rather bitterly. "If Lorca hadn’t come when he did, I doubt if I would have survived.”

“But L’Rell was protecting you,” said Michael. 

“Sometimes... sometimes I think I love her.” His voice was almost a whisper.

“That’s normal, Ash. People fall in love with their torturers.”

“But I love you.” The whisper was even lower but Michael heard him. 

“Oh, Ash, we can’t think of love at the moment,” she said, the softness in her tone belying her words. “We have no idea what might happen. And I’ve told you I can’t look forward to a life with fishing in an abundant sea. I might very well be back in prison before we know it.”

“I can still think of you with love while I fish,” he answered, grinning. “And I think Lorca will find a way to keep you out of prison.”

Michael grinned back and leaned her head on his shoulder. Sometimes it was good to have someone to rest on. She thought he was a good man, perhaps her rock. She also refused to be the slightest bit jealous of L’Rell. 

“And,” he continued, putting an arm around her, “I oscillate between being a gung-ho soldier, concerned with security, and wanting to be submissive to you.”

“The two aren’t totally incompatible,” she murmured. 

They sat together, almost unmoving, so close that they could sense each other’s body heat and breathing. 

“What about Cadet Tilley,” Ash said at last. “No fault lines?”

“I don’t think so,” said Michael, reiterating her thoughts on the subject. “She’s very young, she had a conventional upbringing and education, and so far she hasn’t seen any disasters. And yet she’s wise beneath that ingenuous exterior, and I think she really will make command training one day. She’s nervous but brave. At times she can sound silly but she’s a clever scientist and I think all that is just her integrated personality plus youth. No fault lines that I can see. Perhaps a core of competence that’s still in a developmental stage.”

“Lucky Tilley,” he said, and they fell silent, still holding each other close, watching the stars and a crescent moon that silvered the stones around them.


	3. We band of brothers (Shakespeare: Henry V)

Eventually they kissed. They had kissed on Pahvo but somehow this was both deeper and newer. 

“You’re my rock,” she told him quietly, voicing aloud the thought that had pushed her towards the kiss.

“And if I’m fractured?” 

“Then I will put my faith in the shards,” she said. “Don’t forget I might fracture too. But they seemed to think these might be good things.”

“Perhaps,” he murmured, then, “I will believe in you, too. At least we have each other.”

“For now,” she said, kissing him again. “Who knows what the future might bring? But Amanda taught me to value the happiness of the moment and I can do that.”

She nestled closer into his embrace, wanting to merge with him, to lose herself in his love. However temporary it might be it was hers to have and hold for the moment. Logic, she thought fleetingly, had absolutely no place in this. She felt glad she’d had Amanda’s humanity to temper Sarek’s Vulcan severity.

As they whispered to each other and their caresses grew more urgent, the sky lightened. One minute everything was dark and the next they could see silver on the horizon. The stones around them reflected the light of the rising sun and there was a dawn chorus, not exactly like birds but with the same hope and joy in it. Soon they were bathed in strengthening colour and the stones shone like jewels. 

Michael was filled with wonder. It seemed a fitting tribute to their coming together, this painting of the world at the very instant they declared their feelings. She saw the sparkle and glow of the stones reflected in the eyes of her lover and felt extraordinarily content.

Of course it was not to last. The noise and the light had woken their companion who stumbled from her sleeping pod rubbing her eyes. But instead of gazing with them at the glorious landscape she looked worried and even perhaps a little afraid. She wasn't looking at Michael and Ash but at something else. Not stones, obviously.

“What is it, Cadet Tilley?” Michael tried to speak as an authority figure rather than a friend, hoping to steady the young woman and make her feel that Michael and Ash were in charge and could cope with whatever was alarming her. 

Before Tilley could reply, Ash had drawn away from Michael and was on his feet, his weapon drawn and a determined look on his face.

Michael turned.

They were surrounded by shapes, hazy but hardening as she looked. The Humans’ backs were to the ledge where Michael and Ash had been sitting whilst in a huge semi-circle she could see giant Tardigrades, exactly like the one that had powered their spore drive. There were at least twelve but she did not have the luxury of time to count properly.

The Tardigrades were standing upright but as they saw her face they lowered themselves to all fours. Ash pushed in front of her.  
That was reckless and heroic. If they had been intent on destruction like the one on the Klingon ship, a lone soldier could have done nothing to stop them. But Michael half sensed that they meant her no harm. They might, she thought, mean Ash harm because he was threatening them, and already she could see one readying to attack. She was never sure later whether she had been brave or simply reacted to her emotions. At any rate, she suspected logic had not been involved. She moved fast, placing herself in front of Ash. 

“Don’t touch him,” she said. She reached behind her and grabbed his hand, the one without a weapon. She gripped it firmly and drew him to stand beside her. “He’s mine,” she told them.

She had no idea whether they understood the words but they clearly understood the gesture.

The Tardigrade with attack on its mind turned back to the others and with one accord they all bowed their heads to the ground in the direction of Michael and Silvia. Ash stood uncertainly beside them, pale and frowning.

The voice of the stones reached them all. “The creatures give honour because one went back to space. Life instead of certain death.”

The Tardigrades stood again then settled in various postures as if relaxing for a party or a festival. Tilley stepped towards them, her eyes shining.

“Is our friend there?” she asked. “We were so happy to help.”

“And that,” said a single stone, not yesterday’s boulder but a large, rounded piece of granite that had shimmered in the dawn, “is why help for Humans, not Klingons.”

“Do you mean the Tardigrades will help you to help us?” Michael was not sure just what was being offered. “Will one of them come back to Discovery with us and help with the spore drive? We wouldn’t ask it to wear itself out, like before, I promise. But Lieutenant Stamets is having problems, possibly the same problems our Tardigrade friend had, and we would be grateful for any assistance they can offer.”

“No Creature will go to Discovery,” said the stone after a pause. “Wish the Stamets Human well but warn of too much travelling.”

“We think we’ve begun to understand that,” said Tilley, with feeling. Michael knew the cadet had suffered watching first the Tardigrade then Stamets struggle with the mycelium. 

“So that warning is the only help they can offer?” Michael was disappointed. 

“Creatures help stone,” came the reply. Then, “Creatures help stone travel. Creatures help stone help Humans.”

“Oh, I think I see,” said Tilley. “The Tardigrades travel everywhere through the mycelium and the stones kind of mind piggyback all over the universe?” Her voice rose in a hesitant query.

“I don’t think,” Michael muttered, “that ‘mind piggyback’ is a very scientific description.”

“It works,” said Tilley, then she listened for the stone’s response.

“Yes, Stone go with Creatures. Everywhere.”

“But in that case,” Michael interrupted, “why would a stone need to travel?” She patted her pocket as she spoke and felt a tiny movement through the fabric.

“Some stone curious. See and feel in person, not through Creatures.” This was said in a tone of dismissal then the granite continued. “Stone see Humans. See Klingons. See Vulcans. See all. Learn languages.”

“I see,” said Michael, and she did. This was a sentient race that travelled through the entire universe courtesy of the Tardigrade connection with the mycelium. The concept was awesome. The results were also awesome in that the stones were clearly predisposed towards the Federation and not their enemies. 

“Creatures help stone boost signal everywhere,” said the granite, and Michael realised this was what they’d meant by help and by having to wait till the morning when the Tardigrades would arrive. 

“We are most grateful for your help, and for that of your friends,” she said. 

“More warnings,” said the granite, and of course there had to be. Nothing was ever simple, or uniformly good news. 

“More warnings?” Ash was the most alarmed but all of them wanted to hear. The warnings would probably be couched in the same general terms as the previous day’s fortune telling, but could still be useful.

There were some growls and grunts from the Tardigrades. Michael was unsure whether these amounted to communication. She suspected they had some kind of telepathic connection with the stones but perhaps talked aloud to each other.

“More than one universe,” said the granite. “More Humans, more Klingons, more stone. Another Stamets. More of the three Humans here. Not help. Not,” it added, “more Creatures. Creatures go everywhere.”

“But Humans don’t,” said Michael. “So even if there’s another unhelpful universe out there we aren’t likely to come across it.”

“Future crossing in probabilities,” said the granite, but refused to be drawn further on when in the future this particular probability might lie. 

“It could be centuries from now,” Ash pointed out. 

“But in that case, why bother warning us? Warnings are pointless if they’re about things that are likely to happen when you’re no longer around.” Michael shivered thinking about another universe. One in which she joined the Vulcan forces rather than the Federation. Or where her parents were still alive. Philippa, perhaps. Or where Ash was never tortured. 

The granite gave a kind of cough, obviously wanting their undivided attention. “Future crossing,” it said firmly. “And mycelium fragile. Mycelium in all universes. Problems in some.”

“Problems with the mycelium?” Tilley sounded concerned, as well she might.

“Yes,” the granite confirmed. “Sick,” it added, “like Creature using spore drive.”

“So if the mycelium has some kind of illness we need to be careful about using it,” Tilley concluded.

“Yes,” said the granite and Michael was almost sure that some of the Tardigrades nodded their huge heads. 

“Have you travelled to the other universes?” she asked, more out of curiosity than any need to know.

“Not yet,” said the granite. “Maybe soon. For now, help.”

“And as I said, we’re extremely grateful. We ought to return to Discovery and share your wisdom with the captain and crew. Is there any more waiting we should do?”

“Humans return to Discovery. Stone boost signal. Creatures help.” This was not from the granite but from the entire landscape, then there was a kind of silence, occasionally broken by the movement of a pebble or the slide of shale on a nearby slope. 

The team packed, not a hard job as all they had were their sleep pods, their canteens, their weapons and their radios. Then Michael contacted the ship.

“Three to beam aboard,” she told them, wondering whether that should have been four, considering the pebble in her pocket.


	4. To thine own self be true (Shakespeare: Hamlet)

Everybody was busy. Lorca seemed pleased about the way the stones would boost the signal but annoyed that the Tardigrades would not send one of their number to help with the spore drive. Michael thought perhaps he had only listened to half of what she said, and only believed the things that were of immediate use. 

Stamets was faintly grateful to have the Tardigrades wish him well but frowned when Tilley told him about the sickness in the mycelium.

“But we don’t know when it occurs,” she finished. 

“Or where, I suppose, but I’ve noticed our mycelium forest on Discovery is ailing. I thought perhaps water, but maybe...”

“If it’s an infection I can’t see how it was passed along,” said Michael.

“Unless the Tardigrades are spreading it unwittingly,” Stamets said with a sigh. 

“I thought...” Tilley stopped. The others motioned to her to continue.

“I thought,” she said at last, “but maybe it was stupid. I thought they implied that the infection was deliberate. Something to do with the other universe.” She stopped talking abruptly, blushing.

Lorca and the others had laughed at the idea of another universe. “Wishful thinking,” he’d said. “You’d find Philippa alive and the war unfought. No prison sentence.”

Perhaps, but the stones had seemed so certain. Of course, Michael thought, as well as the possibilities for Philippa and for her family, there was the chance she and Ash would never have met. She wondered how she felt about that: a universe in which Michael did not have Ash to lean on and Ash did not need Michael to save him. She shivered and felt a little sorry for her doppelgänger. But then maybe, she told herself, they had met much sooner and were a settled married couple with children, living near Seattle, with her involved in the local parents’ group and Ash fishing every weekend. She supposed she would never know, and in any case, that Michael and Ash would not be her and her lover, merely mirror images. 

She pulled herself out of her daydreams to hear Stamets saying that whatever the cause they would have to keep a close eye on the mycelium and she had to agree. 

“And on you,” she told him. “They seemed certain that too much travel could be harmful, though I gather they do range quite widely.”

She went to her quarters, the room she shared with Silvia, and put her camping gear away. She washed and changed, and as she dropped her jacket on the bed she remembered the pebble. She took it out of the pocket and put it on the table. 

“You want to travel,” she said to it. “Well, here you are. But I promise to take you to other parts of the ship too.” 

“Talking to your passenger?” Ash had come into the room behind her. She couldn’t complain because she had left the door ajar, and she wouldn’t complain because she was pleased to see him.

“I wonder if Lorca has fault lines,” she said as she moved into her lover’s arms.

“He seems integrated, dedicated, and strong. But who knows? We don’t, that’s for sure, and I doubt it others see the cracks we know we have. About the only thing most Humans would notice is your core strength.” 

They moved to the bed and sat kissing and caressing each other. Then Michael sighed.

“This isn’t just my room, you know,” she said. “Silvia might be tolerant, but I’m not sure I want a voyeur.”

Ash kissed her again in reply but got up. “I’m glad we had our fortunes told on Stone,” he said. 

“It wasn’t just fortune telling,” said Michael. “They read our minds to some extent and they worked out possibilities based on that.”

“Like I said, fortune telling,” said Ash. “But I think it brought us closer together and that has to be good. I never thanked you for claiming me in the face of the Tardigrade anger, but I thank you now.”

Michael grinned. “You’d do the same for me,” she said. 

“Claim you? Yes, in a heartbeat. Stand against an attacking alien? I hope so.” 

“You tried,” she pointed out.

“I suppose I did. Though that just ended with you rescuing me. And I’m not certain about my motives. I do regard myself as responsible for your safety but that was more of an instinctive reaction against the Tardigrades, not an attempt to defend us. Perhaps I’ve met them before and can’t remember.”

Michael cupped his face in her hands and looked deep into his eyes. “Don’t fret about what you can’t remember,” she said.

“I just... I sometimes think my memories will stop swirling and at that point I’ll fracture into pieces.”

“Or you might split like the geode, showing something wonderful within.” She tried to give him confidence; her rock should not suffer from self doubt.

“I don’t suppose I’d have rainbow crystals inside,” he said, laughing. “But I know every splinter would have Michael engraved on it.” 

She smiled and kissed him. Then Lorca’s voice summoned them back to the bridge and she switched from lover to loyal crew member in an instant. “Let’s go,” she said. “There’s a lot to do and that signal should be everywhere by now.” She picked up a clean jacket and took the pebble from the table. Ash watched her but said nothing and followed her from the room. 

When they reached the bridge Captain Lorca welcomed them and showed them the screens that told him how strong the signal was. 

“The Klingons can’t miss it,” he said. “And now we’ll see how they respond.”

“So the stones and the Tardigrades kept their word,” said Michael. “And before I forget, I have a small representative of the stones here.” She placed the pebble where it would have the same view of space as the captain. She assumed it could see.

Lorca surveyed the pebble which simply sat there, a small grey piece of rounded stone. “Will it talk to me?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” said Michael. “It hasn’t spoken to us. I think perhaps they need the full support of all the other stones to talk. But it wanted to travel in person rather than by Tardigrade, so here it is.”

“So these stones are a sentient race?”

“Yes, and maybe they could apply to join the Federation. Or since they’ve helped so much and so willingly perhaps we could issue an invitation.”

“Perhaps. You said something about mind reading and predictions. Anything useful other than the worry about the mycelium and the far fetched notion of another universe?”

“Mostly personal stuff, Captain.”

“Oh?” For a moment, he was listening.

“Things about conflict within our personalities, fault lines in our characters, and how those might affect our futures. And then how those in turn might affect our place among the stars.” Michael looked at Ash and they smiled at each other. 

“Hmm. I’ve seen the way you two interact. I hope that’s not going to turn into a fault line that could affect the stars, or the ship for that matter.”

“No, sir.” They both spoke at once. 

“Very well. Back to work, and thank you for bringing the stones on board. Literally, in the case of this small one. I hope it enjoys its experiences.” He smiled at them and then at the pebble. 

The pebble surveyed the bridge and looked outward into space. It settled happily, feeling a glow of satisfaction. So far, the outlook was excellent.


End file.
